


Merry Christmas Clowns!

by Lucian_Price



Category: Hotline Miami (Video Games), PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Countdown, Fluff, Found Family, Merry Payday Christmas, Multi, Payday Gang is one big family, oneshots, will add more tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucian_Price/pseuds/Lucian_Price
Summary: A series of Christmas oneshots, some are related, but most aren't
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Day One: Hoxton the Scrooge

**Author's Note:**

> Hoxton hates Christmas, but he has an odd change of heart after a strange dream

It was that time of the year again. The time of the year where everyone was expected to be extra nice to each other, and a person was supposed to do selfless things out of the goodness of their heart. Hoxton hated Christmas with a bloody passion. He hated the fact that a person was supposed to be extra nice just because it was Christmas. He felt that if a person was going to be nice, they should just be nice in general. No point in being nice just to get on the good side of some imaginary fat, cookies and milk loving, old man. He sat at the kitchen island, staring outside at the piles of fluffy white shit. "Fuck this." He sneered to himself. He could hear the sounds of laughter and shrieking from outside. 

Wolf, Clover, and Sydney were having a snowball fight. Wolf had made a turret that shot snowballs, he was firing them rapidly at Clover and Sydney's snow fort. Sydney had designed the fort, it was covered in icicles. Her defense was that it made it look more punk, but was also a defensive thing. Clover shook her head in bemusement, but wasn't about to argue with her. "Oi! Jacket!" Sydney whisper shouted at the blonde man who was leaving the safehouse for a walk. She waved him over, he would be exactly what they needed to win against Wolf. 

Hoxton turned away from the sight, and stared down at his cup of tea. He had laced it with a little bit of whiskey, it was 5 o' clock somewhere. The whole safehouse reeked of pine tree, Wolf had insisted on setting up a huge tree in the middle of the living room. According to the young Swede, Santa needed enough space to leave presents for everyone. He was so adamant about it, and Hoxton didn't have it in him to break the poor man's heart. How Wolf still believed in Santa was beyond everyone in the gang. 

"Hey buddy." Dallas padded softly into the kitchen. Hoxton hadn't even heard him coming, he supposed he had Dallas' slippers to thank for that one. Dallas looked like shit,if Hoxton was being honest, the older man had heavy bags under his eyes. Dallas raised an eyebrow at Hoxton, it wasn't often that the Englishman came out of his during the month of December. His nose wrinkled as he got closer to Hoxton, he could smell the whiskey from Hox's cup. 

"G'morning." Hoxton's words slurred slightly, and Dallas had wondered how about the tea to whiskey ratio in Hoxton's cup. 

"it's 3 in the afternoon, Hox." Dallas said softly, and slid into the seat across from Hoxton. The marble countertop was cool to the touch, a welcome contrast from the warmth of the safehouse. Dallas had gone so far as to put a post it note on the thermostat, no one was to touch the thermostat. Somehow, the temperature was always higher than when he set it. He tried to record whomever was touching the damn thing, but somehow he never caught them. Sometimes he thought it might be Jacket, the Floridian probably wasn't used to the colder weather. Alas Dallas would probably never know. 

Hoxton glared at Dallas, a scowl curling his lips. "I'm catching up on two years worth." He slurred and stood up. Was the floor always that crooked? He stumbled from the room, and Dallas shook his head at the drunken mans display. "I fucking hate December." He muttered to himself, tea cup in hand. He made his way towards the stairs to go to his room. Oh, hello carpet, was it always that close? 

All Dallas heard was angry English grumbling, and then a thunk and a crash. He stood up and half jogged to the source of the sound. Hoxton lay on the floor, blood seeping from the back of his head. The cracked remains of his tea cup sat next to him, tea and whiskey spilling everywhere. "Hox?" Dallas gently shook the younger man. Hoxton was out cold, and the gash on the back of his head hinted at something more concerning. Dallas lifted up Hoxton bridal style, and began carrying him up the stairs.

Chains popped his head out of the basement doorway. "Dallas, what the fuck is going on?" He had run up the stairs after hearing the noise, and Dallas' strained grunts did not make things any better. The thoughts that raced through Chains' mind, which he quickly tried to erase. The last thing he needed was to think about /that/. His eyes rested on Hoxton's limp form, and he sighed softly, "I'll get the supplies." He sounded a little tired, and Dallas wondered how long Chains had been up the night before? 

He carried Hoxton up the stairs, and to his room where he laid him down on the bed. He went to the closet and pulled out a washcloth, he went into the bathroom to wet it. Chains entered the room, and the two of them got to work on patching up Hoxton.

* * *

Hoxton shivered, why the fuck was it so cold? Dallas would never let the safehouse get that cold. Snowflakes drifted down, and kissed the scarred side of his face. They tingled pleasantly, but over time it just felt really cold. Hoxton opened his eyes, and immediately the sight of snow blinded him. It was way too goddamn bright, and the snow was reflecting all of that beautiful sunshine. The smell of pine tree, peppermint, and gingerbread permeated the air. Was this hell? Had Hoxton died and gone to hell? He sat up from his spot in the snowbank. "Fucking wankers." He grumbled angrily to himself, and a small elf popped out of a neighboring snowbank. 

"That's not very nice!" He chided softly, he sounded Swedish. 

"Why the fuck should I care?" He snapped at the elf, and stood up. He brushed the snow from his suit, and looked out into the distance. A huge gingerbread village lay in the distance. 

"Mr Claus won't like it, you'll be put on the super naughty list!" The elf yelled in dismay, small tears forming in his large eyes. He grabbed onto Hoxton's hand, and started pulling him towards the village. "It's not too late, it's never too late." When Hoxton didn't immediately start moving, the elf pulled even harder.

Hoxton scowled, but he followed along. This elf may be his ticket out of this shithole. They walked down a long and winding path, giant candy canes served as lampposts to light the way. The elf rambled on about Christmas shit, about how Hox was the naughtiest of all of his family. Hoxton shivered, his suit unfortunately didn't provide very much protection from the cold winter air. 

When they arrived in the village, the smell of gingerbread and pine tree became even stronger. It was almost overwhelming. The air felt warmer in the village, which Hoxton supposed was a blessing. Every where he turned, he heard laughter, joy, and mother fucking Carolers. The small elf urged him onward toward the gingerbread castle, "Mr Claus is in there." He nodded, and ran way quickly. He supposed that that would be the last of his help. Hoxton trudged onward towards the castle, his hands reaching towards the inside of his jacket to pull out his mask. His fingers grasped at nothing, and he felt a bout of panic bubble up in his chest. Another pat around, and he discovered he had no weapons at all. He was about to walk right into the lion's den completely unarmed. 

Hoxton climbed up the peppermint stairs, the railing made of large gumdrops. He pushed the door to the castle open with ease, a nd walked down the long red carpet. At the very end of the room was a large golden throne, presents of all kinds stacked around the throne. At the very center, was a man who didn't look very Santa-like at all. Instead of a large snow white beard, his was brown. Santa's nose was bright red, it reminded Hoxton of Rudolph. Santa hiccuped loudly, "Hi there, Hoxton." The man's words slurred significantly, and then Santa started to fall asleep. 

"Hey! You need to wake Santa up!" A loud Ukrainian man emerged from behind the throne, what he was doing there was unknown. The Ukrainian man laughed loudly, and hit Santa as a demonstration. Hoxton proceeded to do what Santa and the man asked of him. he just wanted out of this hell hole. 

These tasks went on for what felt like forever, and Hoxton did them to the best of his abilities. He learned after a while to stop complaining.

* * *

A voice called out from the sky, "Hoxtitron! Come on!" 

Hoxton bolted upwards in his bed in the safehouse. His head nearly colliding with Wolf as he did so. "Santa I've been a bad boy this year!" He cried out, eyes wild. 

Wolf gently pushed him back down on the bed. "Shh, it's okay Hox get some rest." Wolf tucked Hoxton back into bed. 

"Wolfie, I saw him. You gotta help me get on the nice list." He murmured before drifting back to sleep. Wolf looked at Jacket who had stopped by the doorway, it was his turn to babysit Hoxton lest he do something stupid.

"He knows I don't really believe in Santa, right?" Wolf glanced back and forth between Jacket and Hoxton. 

The silent man just shrugged, face impassive. A click and a whir, "Gingerbread houses are fun to build, get one today!" A peppy young woman's voice called out of Jacket's tape recorder. 

Wolf immediately perked up, and raced past Jacket. He had forgotten about the gingerbread house contest amidst his concern for Hoxton. 

Jacket fixed the hat on his head, a funky little Santa hat. It was nice to spend the holidays with his family. A smile stretched across his face, it didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked over to Hoxton's bed, and stared at Hoxton. 

The Englishman slowly opened his eyes, the room glowed softly from the fairy lights that been strung up, courtesy of Wolf. The lights reflected in Jackets cold hazel eyes. Click, whir. "Merry Christmas ya filthy animals." 


	2. Go Bank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GO Bank plays the Merry Payday Christmas album during the Christmas season, and Hoxton encounters a fan. Houston is exasperated with Hox, and Chains eggs them on for his own entertainment (waiting for the time lock can get boring)

The day was relatively quiet at Robert's Bank of Savings Trust. Christmas was only a few weeks away, and the little lobby was packed full of people wanting to take out loans, make adjustments to their accounts, among other things. The locals lovingly refer to the bank as GO Bank, as the actual name is a bit of a mouthful. Garlands of colorful lights, holly, and tinsel lined the walls and hung off of the desks. Christmas music played overhead, although it was a very odd choice. A client tried to complain to the manager that some of the songs were very family friendly, alas the manager shrugged him off. It's a private bank, and the manager felt that he should be able to play what he wants over the radio. It was the only thing keeping him and his associates level headed around this time of year.

A large blue van pulled up across the street, and four men wearing nice suits, well except for one. Three of the men wore nicely tailored suits, while the fourth dressed rather plain. He wore blue jeans, a green shirt, and a letterman's jacket. The fact that they all stepped out of the van struck the manager as a little odd, but the thought quickly passed through his mind. He frequently had odd ducks show up at the bank, especially considering the time of year that it was.

Across the street from the bank, the four excited heisters finalized their plans. Jacket nods along as he listens to the plan. His role is mostly backup in case things go loud, although with Chains and Houston's careful planning, it hopefully wouldn't get to that point. "Everyone good with the plan?" Chains asked the group, he wanted to make sure everyone was really one board with the plan. The goal was to go in quietly, and get real fucking rich.

Jacket clicked a couple of buttons on his tape recorder, a distorted feminine voice sounded from the tape, "It is time to convey these articles."

Houston nodded and started to make his way across the street. His role was to sneak in through the back undetected with Chains, the two of them would quickly take out the guards and the cameras. Hoxton and Jacket were to go in when given the signal, the two of them would work on crowd control.

Chains followed after Houston, but not before hearing Hox bitch about Houston first. Hox lit up a cigarette, and Jacket did the same. It wasn't uncommon for a few of the heisters to indulge in their vices before a job. Hoxton, Jacket, and Dallas were definitely the most common to light up before a job. Perhaps it calmed their nerves, maybe it was a memory of a simpler time, or perhaps it was just a habit they couldn't stamp out. Whatever the motivation was, it didn't matter much to Chains. They were grown ass adults, as long as it didn't impact the job, they were more than capable of making their own decisions.  
  
Chains caught up with Houston behind the bank. The manager had been tied down, and one of the guards had been taken out. "Hey nice going Hous." Chains spoke softly to Houston. Things were already off to a good start, and it could really only go up from there.

Houston smirked beneath his mask. He felt like he had a lot to live up to, a lot to prove himself on even after all this time. He wanted to keep impressing his found family, find a way to crawl out from Dallas' massive shadow. Maybe that British fucker wouldn't be such a dick if he could see that stealth really was a valid option.

Chains slipped his own mask on, and the two of them quickly got to work taking out the last guard and the cameras.

"Alright, we're clear." Houston signaled the other heisters. It was time to get to work.

Hoxton and Jacket made their way across the street, they had masked up behind the van so no one would catch their faces. Although most people already knew what Hoxton looked like, being wanted by the FBI would do that to you. It was really more of a formality these days. The two of them made their way into the bank. The four heisters quickly got to work getting the civilians in check and tying them down. No civs would be able to make phone calls to emergency services, and no one could press the alarm.

"Everybody stay the fuck down!" Hoxton barked from behind his mask.  
  
A young woman perked her head up at the sound of the Englishman's voice. "Holy shit." She murmured quietly to her coworker. "It's him, from the Christmas album!" She was trying hard to keep the volume of her voice down lest the heisters overhear her and think she was trying something.  
  
Jacket loomed over them, said nothing, and cocked his head to the side. "Hoxton," he rewound the tape quickly "please follow."

Chains and Houston were busy getting the time lock going on the vault door. Hoxton made his way over to Jacket, he wasn't really sure what the chicken man wanted, but he was intrigued nonetheless.

The young teller's eyes widened with excitement. "Wow! It really is you!" She smiled, which was odd considering her current circumstances. "I'm a really big fan of your Christmas album. I have to ask, how'd you manage to record it while _in_ prison?"

Hoxton smirked beneath his mask, her excitement was a welcome boost to his already inflated ego. He glanced back at the vault door where Chains and Houston were waiting for the clock to run down.

"Yeah, Hox, how _did_ you manage to record that album in prison?" Chains asked, he really didn't care to hear the story again. He'd already heard a million times. What was entertaining about the situation, was hearing Houston's exasperated sighing. Sometimes you had to do weird shit to pass the time while waiting, and this happened to be the more fun of the options.

"Well, I suppose I can't deny an eager audience." Hoxton was practically buzzing. He sat down at the counter, and began to regale everyone with the story of the album, how it came to be, and how he recorded it in prison.

"Really, Chains?" Houston muttered rather harshly. Hoxton really got on Houston's nerves, that wasn't really a shock to most people. They were total polar opposites. Hoxton didn't know to keep his mouth shut, and didn't really seem to believe in doing things quiet. This fact rather frustrated Houston who much preferred to keep things quiet. It's much easier to not go home riddled with bullets, or even land your ass in jail if you never get caught.

Chains snickered at the situation. "C'mon man, it keeps him occupied, and it helps to pass the time." He gestured vaguely at Hoxton, who was in the middle of a completely unrelated story.

In the midst of all of this, Jacket was busy rehoming the tape from the speaker right into his pocket. The tape was lonely, and he knew he had many friends for it at home. No one really noticed the music stopping, as most people were too busy waiting for the robbery to be over, or were enraptured in Hox's story.

Finally the vault door opened, and inside were rows upon rows of deposit boxes. "Oi, arse clown." Hoxton called out towards the vault. "Do ya need help?"  
  
"No we've got it, just 40 boxes to lockpick." Houston called back sarcastically. "Fucking asshole." He murmured to himself.

"Suit yourself then!" Hoxton replied, and got right back into where he left off. 

  
Jacket kept watch on the outside, there had already been a couple of close calls with civvies walking bye, and Bain had to answer a couple of random phone calls to the bank. 

* * *

Chains and Houston finished picking all the locks, and he four heisters began to work on loading the loot into the van. Another successful heist for the Payday gang. "Excuse me! Mr Hoxton!" The teller from before called out from behind the desk. 

Hox turned around after having hauled the last bag of gold into the van. "I'll be back." He murmured to the other heisters. He kept his hand wrapped around his gun. He had no intention of hurting her, but he might need it to giver her a little scare just in case. He walked back into the bank, and made his way over to her. "What d'you want, sunshine?" His voice had an edge to it. He would never admit to being at fault, but he would at least admit to himself that he really didn't pull his weight as much this heist. 

"Can I have your autograph?" She asked, her eyes twinkling. She had managed to sit herself up and propped herself up against the wall. 

Hoxton winced behind the mask. He wanted to leave no trace behind, and he really wasn't an autograph person. "Give me your phone." He stretched his gloved hand out for the tellers phone. 

Her face was lightly tinted pink. "It's in my jacket pocket." She glanced down at her blazer, with her hands behind her back she couldn't very well pull it out. 

Hox deftly fished her phone from her pocket, and opened the camera from the lock screen. "Merry fuckin' Christmas." He smiled again from behind the mask. He stretched his arm out to take a selfie with the teller, and made sure that there wasn't anything in the picture that may identify him. For all anyone else knew, it could've been a group of copycats who robbed the bank. He placed the phone up on the desk, away from her reach. He walked towards the door, and called over his shoulder "Can't have you calling the cops before we get outta here, sunshine."

Hoxton got back into the van, and peeled his mask off his face. The damn things didn't really breathe well, his skin was glossy with a light sheen of sweat. 

Houston shot him a dirty look from the passenger's seat. He was one of the very few people Twitch was cool with sitting in the front. Houston was one of the least recognizable of the gang, he had no particularly distinguishing features, something he used to his advantage when the situation called for it. 

"Fuckin' wanker." Hox muttered and flipped Houston off. 

Twitch stepped on the gas, and the four of them sped off toward the safehouse. It was going to be an early Christmas with the haul they were bringing home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The selfie thing was borrowed directly from that lovely fanart I've seen go around of Hoxton taking a selfie with a teller from Terrowatt (Currently zaffyrr on Tumblr)

**Author's Note:**

> I have been listening to the Payday Christmas album way too much. I couldn't help but sneak a couple of references to it in this


End file.
